Splitting
by Shostakovich
Summary: In her object relations theory, Melanie Klein states that children are born with two primary drives: love and hate. Sometimes, they never learn the places in-between. / Immediately post-war.


Author's Note: Hello! This is my second Harry Potter story, so I would be EXTREMELY appreciative of any comments you could leave (sans flame). Constructive criticism is most welcome— this is different from other things I've been writing lately, and any help you can provide is invaluable.

Thank you in advance for reading and reviewing, and remember: every little bit helps. :-)

Happy reading!

.

* * *

.

_2 May 1998.  
Little Hangleton._

"Beck, wake up. Wake _up_, Beck."

Little arms wrapped around her neck, and she groaned.

A few shudders, and then her eyes snapped open and she sat up so quickly her face turned white and her head churned behind her eyelids.

"B-beck?"

She slowly cracked her eyes open for the second time, and she saw little Elizabeth on the ground, chin shaking.

"Oh, love, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

She opened her arms, and the two-year old crawled over, burying her face against the other's shoulder.

"Beck, dun _do_ that."

"Oh, Lizzie."

Rebecca Auty held her sister, trying to ignore the blood pooled around her.

_We need to leave._

* * *

Elizabeth's pink dress was darker and stiffer now. Rebecca's own jeans felt (and probably looked) soiled, and after a few minutes spent discerning that they were safe (for the moment), she hefted Elizabeth up and climbed down the hill towards their tiny town.

Before the ungodly scream and subsequent devastation, Little Hangleton had been a quiet, clean little place. Hardly anything ever went wrong, except for a few incidences at the big house up on the top of the very same hill that Rebecca and Elizabeth had been walking.

Rebecca glanced once back at the Riddle House, silhouetted against the uncomfortable semidarkness of four in the morning. She almost slipped, though, and quickly turned her attention back to getting to town in one piece.

Every step in previously thick grass squelched. It was as though the dirt had turned to congealed blood, and she was glad for the darkness.

A few of the streetlamps in Little Hangleton still shone, and she marched toward them, her arms aching from the weight of her sister.

She kept plodding on, though.

For the first time, Rebecca's life instinct had kicked in.

* * *

Little Hangleton was silent and surreal. A thin layer of dust covered the street, and it seemed every building was slightly tilted.

Rebecca looked behind her as she hefted Elizabeth into a different position. The street (the only paved one in town) had a line of red footprints from her shoes, and for the second time she resolved to focus only on what was ahead.

At the Auty's place, where she and her sister and parents lived above their flower shop, the silence seemed more foreboding than ever. Rebecca shifted Elizabeth onto one hip and carefully opened the door.

The little bell chiming made her wince. It sounded like the church bell more than the little tinkle it really was, and she quickly went inside.

All of the petals had fallen off the flowers, and they were scattered across the floor. Rebecca moved over them silently, slipped behind the counter in the back to the door leading up to their apartment, and carefully climbed the stairs.

She didn't know what to expect.

* * *

"Close your eyes, Lizzie," Rebecca whispered.

Elizabeth buried her face in her sister's neck in response, and Rebecca swung the door open.

There was blood splattered on the walls, and even on the ceiling, and the smell almost made her swoon. Picture frames were shattered, furniture broken. Her vision rang red, and she wrenched herself through the doorway and to her bedroom.

Her bedroom door had been closed, so aside from the broken furniture everything looked alright. She closed the door again and set Elizabeth down on the collapsed mattress and flipped the light switch.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't work, so Rebecca worked in the dark.

She quickly changed into clean clothes before hurrying to get a new outfit for her sister in her sister's little room. She could make out bloody shapes out of the corner of her eye, but squeezed her eyes shut before she could be certain they were human beings, or even corpses at all.

"Could be laundry, could be laundry."

* * *

Five minutes later, they were outside in clean clothes. Rebecca had a backpack full of essentials and Elizabeth in her arms.

The sun was starting to peek out from behind the Riddle House.

"It's time to go."


End file.
